An Eureka moment is when you stumble accidentally or otherwise on something or somebody and from then on, your life is paradigmatically shifted to whole new direction, quite unlike what you had always envisaged. It’s like a miracle. Whether it’s an act of God or just completely random is quite subjective. It depends on who is talking. For me, I would say its serendipity. You know; a fortunate accident. And it has happened to me.
A famous guy ( I can’t remember his name) once said that the most important moment in a mans life is not his birthday, but rather when he discovers why he was born. In a nutshell, the point in life is not to live, but it is to discover why you are living. I feel as if I have discovered my purpose. I think the quarter life crisis that has been tormenting me is finally ending.
Let me tell you something about myself.
From the time I was born, I have breathed and eaten art. I remember the first omen to this disposition; when I was in nursery school I remember winning a small toy in recognition of my artistic talent. I jealously kept the toy till the day of its mysterious disappearance. To this day, I have no inkling to its whereabouts.
I continued drawing and drawing in my childhood. My father was a formative figure at this period. He would inspire me to draw by example. Himself an apt draughtsman, he could draw human figures that seemed to jump off the paper. To this day, art has always been inherent to me. The ‘orderly’ mess that is my apartment is testament to this.

Then technology came. It’s a very logical element but artistic too. Like any man, I like toys. As a toy car is to a small boy, so are smartphone’s and computers to me, and to other ‘normal’ men. My head assumed its multitasking mode and alas! I had my first Eureka moment. How could I combine my love for art and technology to create something that I would totally embrace, much more than either of the two, because of the sensible conclusion that the outcome of the duo would be the better of the two worlds. And 3d animation was the answer.
As we speak, 3D animation is leading as my number one priority. Trailing at a respectable distance, are food, shelter and the very essential oxygen! It’s a classic case of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Because of 3d animation, my nocturnal nature has manifested itself. I relish every golden moment spent with my laptop for insanely long stretches of time. The only call of nature is the occasional short call. Not even the mind bogglingly complicated Autodesk Maya 2014 software I am using is enough to unfaze me.

All I want to become from now till the end of time is a 3d animator. Period!

On eighth of this month, the ill-fated (I am not sure) Malaysian aeroplane suddenly vanished from the skies like snow on a hot day and nobody, not even the sophisticated satellites have managed to triangulate its whereabouts. For an airborne monstrosity to simply vanish like that, it seems too impossible to be true.
Everybody is trying to come to terms with two possibilities. One, the plane has been hijacked and the passengers are now hostages in some nondescript location in a nondescript country.Two, the passengers and the crew is watching us from heaven (and hell) in amusement as we scurry around in bewildered confusion.
“Good night”. These are the eerie last words the pilot uttered before the blackout. Ostensibly his words were to let the passengers know it was snooze-time. Whether he meant the normal slumber or the one no one wakes up from, we might never know, only time will tell.
Several theories, (and they get weirder with time) have been proposed to explain this fascinating disappearance. From hijacking, to malfunction culminating in a crash, to the latest that; this plane was captured by aliens and whisked off to an alien planet eons of miles away in another solar system.
Aliens have a knack for being scapegoats of unexplained disappearances. How else did the Ancient Egyptians, sorry, aliens manage to build the architectural wonders that are the great pyramids. The wheel had barely been invented and bulldozers and graders were the stuff of a madman’s dreams. On this ground, I wish to excuse the brazen preposterousness behind aliens being involved in this.
Just like every monkey has its own tail, I now beg to advance my theory that;
’The captain and crew, possibly colluding with most of the passengers decided enough was enough. Enough of sending unmanned missions to Mars and the moon. Enough of spending billions of dollars paying fat checks to astrophysicists who sit all day peering through seemingly opaque telescopes.
Enough of Russia invading a sovereign country and practically staging an occupation in broad daylight . Enough of Kim Jong Ill executing entire members of his own family just to feel safe and snug in his throne. Enough of the white man asking the African man to sleep with a fellowman in the name of liberalism and human rights.
So on top of their lungs they shouted ‘’ENOUGH IS ENOUGH! ‘’And a mission was born. I beg to propose that the aeroplane, at the behest of the ‘astronauts’, turned into a spaceship. And I bet the planet of choice was Pluto. The fact that it’s so far from the sun means it’s cool and a man can finally rest in peace(pardon the pun) away from the heat of the sun. Whether you agree or disagree with my theory, it still makes a lot sense.
Have you ever thought about leaving the confusion, the hypocrisy, the pretence, the sorry state of our humanity and whisk yourself to another planet. I bet you have. And if you have never, soon you will. Each one of us yearns for a utopia where you don’t have to keep guessing what abomination will be visited upon a hapless human being by another. Why is the concept of heaven so appealing?
Away from metaphysics. Did you see the Asian witchdoctor? How unripe coconuts qualified to be part of his paraphernalia I have no idea. I admit It looked more tolerable than the unsightly and honestly speaking frightening African ensemble comprising human skulls, snake teeth and the impossibly present chameleons hair (lol) Made me a bit skeptical about the potency of their wizardry. And I had little hope that the hapless Asian Wizard would get a clue about the mystery surrounding the planes location.
Maybe they should extend their options to a certain well feared witchdoctor from my place. His name is Kathata is a fearsome reincarnation of Lord Voldemort (Harry Potter fans, are you there?) He sends spasms of terror coursing down the spines of even the most hardened criminals. The prospect of feeding on grass or going insane does not excite them one bit and that is why the rate of gangsters relocating elsewhere is very high (don’t ask me where I got this statistic but be assured it exists)
I digress. An interesting observation I have made following reports of debris being found via satellite images: our oceans are more polluted than we thought. The disappearance of this plane has aired our dirty linen; that man is contaminating the environment at an increasingly alarming rate. Soon, the oceans will cry out in anger and the fishes and other marine life on which man subsists on, will surely bear the brunt of this anger.
Therefore, there is more to this bizarre disappearance of the plane than we initially thought. Maybe its Gods way of reminding man that he is still human. Limited in his ability and vulnerable to the outcome of his transgressions.

I am turning 25 in three months time. To say that this has been a smooth ride would be a great travesty of honesty since like most people out there, I have had my fair share of trials, tribulations, rare happy moments and lately, a life crisis characterized with confusion.

It is a confusion that springs from a recently acquired pessimistic attitude towards life. In the Bible, I recently read a chapter that questioned the justification behind virtually everything we do, why do humans struggle to amass great amounts of wealth, make beautiful art, engage their time and resources in pursuit of the finer things in life, if in the end all of us are just but rather sojourners in this place we call earth. In the end, all of us breath their last and go to meet the creator. It doesn’t matter how long it takes, you may be lucky to add a few years to your life by following a strictly monitored diet sanctioned by the best dieticians out there but in the end it all in vain. You die just like everybody else. The absence of permanence is a very depressing prospect.To cut a long story short, all is vanity. This is my dilemma.

Back in college, I was speaking a different language. A language where everything was worth it. From gazing at the sunset to watching children play. Every day brought it own share of joys and challenges which I partook in with a lot of gusto. It was a period of great discovery.

I discovered love, that insanely sweet emotion that could turn bitter any moment. I relished every moment I spent touching and speaking to a woman.

I discovered that I was a potential Michelangelo or Picasso. Spending countless hours drawing everything that apparated inside my memory and with so much zeal; I almost went mad. I breathed and ate art. Every time I closed my eyes, images and pictures danced in front of my eyes, begging to be drawn. Sometimes, the seduction would be complete and giving care to the wind, I would spring out of bed at an ungodly hour and feverishly start drawing, insanity gleaming from my eyes. I drew for anybody who seemed remotely interested. Money or lack of it did not matter more than the deep satisfaction that ran through my body when people would with unbridled awe, stare at my handiwork. They would wonder why I was wasting my time in boring Literature classes when I should be working in a big grand studio, churning out masterpieces.

I also discovered my strong orientation to music when a friend introduced me to digital creation of music. I remember clearly one day as he brought this amazing software called FL Studio 8 which could create music within a few clicks of a computer keyboard. I have to admit I took to this software like fish to water. For the next one semester I almost forgot to eat, to drink, to sleep and even pushed my girlfriend to the nether regions of my priorities. FL Studio 8 was my wife, concubine and lover. It’s no wonder that my weight reduced drastically because of a Spartan diet consisting of a banana and a few slices of bread.

Fast-forward to two years after finishing campus and here I am. An enduring lassitude has manacled my body and spirit with such determination that I have taken the decision to go along with it in total submission. Nothing will convince me to swat a fly from my cheek. After all, all is vanity. I struggle to pick a pencil and draw a rudimentary representation of a face. I think love is very overrated. Somehow sending and reading a love text seems perfunctory. The little silly nothings I used to exchange with my girlfriend require a huge investment in terms of effort. Fl Studio 11, the latest version, seems like a complicated ensemble specially engineered to cause a headache. Whenever I open it, I suddenly feel an alarming sense of being lost.

Because I am afraid after my exit, all my artwork, music productions and love interests will come to naught, since I will not be there. I am realizing that this is a very selfish point of view. And when I look at Martin Luther King, Michelangelo, JFK, Mahatma, Mandela and Isaac Newton, the more I am tempted to think I am wrong, that the great deeds they did were not in vain. Not for the millions in the subsequent generations who continue to date, to enjoy the fruits of their labor. Somehow their effort seems justified when you consider the impact of their deeds to humanity as a whole. But was it worthy for them? I think this is a question that cannot be answered until we find out what happens after death.

Do humans assume an intelligent but spiritual body after death? The reason I am praying that intelligence and perception be part of this new form is because I sorely wish that the dead can interact with the world of the living as far as seeing, listening and emotions is concerned. Then maybe I will probably have the assured satisfaction of watching my legacy positively impact the subsequent generations. I realize I am daydreaming.

I am also tempted to justify my lack of motivation to a normal disorder, which according to life psychologists, all of us must go through. The quarter life crisis. The psychiatrists online agree that the feeling of confusion, lack of purpose, lack of motivation and pessimistic attitude towards life could be legitimate symptoms of this crisis. Life at 25 years is far from what I had envisioned when I was a teenager. They say that the pressure of a young person struggling to fit into society and the sudden independence could lead to this. I am tempted to believe them too, since they continue to say that in two years time, somehow the patient (me) has finally managed to fit into society and everything is meaningful again. They better be right, since this is the easiest escape I can find. Then maybe I will be mad again about becoming the next Picasso.